Counting Costs
by The Real Damien Thorn
Summary: Sharing an apartment with your best friends sounds like a dream come true. So why is everything so hard? Eventual Stanman and K2
1. Chapter 1

"Hurry up and open the door, Jew, I'm freezing my goddamn ass off!" Cartman shuffled his feet impatiently; the box he was holding made a sound as if the glass inside it were going to break.

"It's gonna take a while to freeze _your_ ass off, fatboy," Kyle replied, glancing back at Stan and Kenny with a smile before sliding the key into the lock, opening, for the first time, the door to the apartment they would be sharing for the four years they attended Colorado State.

Cartman pushed his way through the door first, ignoring his friends' complaints. The narrow entryway opened up into the kitchen, and beyond that was the livingroom. The spaces weren't too big; it seemed more like a long, very wide hallway. But it would work for them. Cartman walked past the entryway and dropped the box he was holding onto the counter in the kitchen while Stan opened a door to the left of the front door.

"Dude! We have a little laundry room!" the noir exclaimed. Kyle thanked all the powers that were before following Cartman and Kenny into the kitchen, giving the larger boy a glare.

"Be careful with that box, fatass. Those are all the dishes we have."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Cartman waved him off, moving out of the kitchen and standing into the spot that would be their livingroom. "Go grab my Xbox out of the car, Kenny. We should set that up first." The blond rolled his eyes, looking to the right of the kitchen, where an archway formed into a short hallway.

"We should pick out our rooms first, don't you think, Eric?" He noticed there was another, identical hallway to the left of the kitchen. "Looks like there's two bedrooms on each side of the house." He peeked his head into the hallway right of the small kitchen, before stepping into the archway and opening the first door he saw. "Sweet, I'll take this room."

Cartman followed him, looking into the room briefly before moving down the hallway, opening the second door. "A bathroom," he said, more to himself. He waddled to the last door in the hallway, opening it up and stepping inside. "This is pretty big, I'll take this one."

Meanwhile, Stan and Kyle had headed to the other hallway, noticing a similar set up. Kyle had chosen the room identical as the one his blond friend had picked, and Stan had been left with the last room further down the hall.

"Oh, fuck, I have to share a bathroom with Kenny?" Cartman's loud voice suddenly exploded through the empty home.

"Fuck you, fatass," the blond yelled from his room, coming out to stand in his doorway to better yell at the taller man. "I should be the one who's worrying. You'll have that toilet clogged before the night's over with, I guarantee it."

Kyle muttered a silent thanks to whatever god would listen that he was able to share his bathroom with Stan. "Let's start grabbing our shit," he told said man, who nodded and followed him back out the front door. Kyle's red Hyundai still had its back door open, and Stan went to pull more of their boxes out of it.

Kyle stopped him. "Let's grab he couch and shit first. At least get the main furniture set up."

"Good idea."

Three hours later, (though it felt more like six with Cartman's complaining) they had everything moved into the small apartment. It still looked extremely bare, but they at least had most of the basic needs for a home.

Cartman sat down onto the couch that had previously been collecting dust in Stan's basement. His parents had let him take it with him to college, and the four men were grateful for that. "I'm fucking starving, I'm ordering pizza."

"Fuck, please." Stan flopped down beside the brunet, closing his eyes as Cartman pulled his phone out and dialed the number. The larger man glanced down at Stan briefly before the pizza pace picked up and asked him for his order. He ordered two large pizzas with toppings yelled at him by his three friends, and got two 2-liters of soda to finish it off.

"They'll be here in thirty minutes," he said, glancing around for a clock before remembering he had one on his phone. "Six forty-two. Remember that. I'm not paying if it comes any later than that."

Kenny sat down beside Stan, smiling. "We did it." Kyle shared the look, hopping up on the kitchen counter closest to the livingroom.

"Finally made it out of South Park." He sighed in content, leaning back and smacking his head against the cabinet. "Ow…"

"For the next four years, at least," Stan commented, opening his eyes. "I still have no idea what I want to do. For all I know, I'll be back in South Park four years from now working some dead-end job I don't like because I picked some dumbass major at the last minute."

"Quit your bitching, Stan," Cartman said.

"The first two years of college don't even really count, Stan, so relax." Kyle hopped off the counter, walking into the livingroom. "You don't have to decide until junior year. You're only taking the basics until then."

"Then why are all of you guys already taking classes for your majors?"

Kyle shrugged, reddening a bit. "Just getting them out of the way. And Kenny's not."

"Yeah, he is. He's taking that Human Development thing," Stan said, pouting.

"So? We're all still taking the basic requirements, too." Kyle waked over to the couch and sat on the arm of it, kicking his super best friend lightly. "Lighten up a little, dude."

Cartman stood up, the cushion beneath Stan rising a bit as the weight was taken off of it. He leaned down near the TV to turn his Xbox on, picking up his controller before sitting back down again. "As much as I _love_ hearing you bitch, I need to kill things after a day like this."

"Amen," Kenny said, settling down into the couch to watch. Kyle sighed before suddenly sitting up.

"We have to flip this whole room around." Said room's other three occupants looked at him, confusion plastered over their faces.

"Um…why?" Kenny finally asked.

"I can't share the wall with the TV. My bed's on the other side, dude," the redhead explained. When his friends continued to look curious, he went on. "I don't want the sounds of gunfire and monsters yelling keeping me up at night while I'm trying to sleep, especially if I have work or school early in the morning."

"Are you fucking serious, Kahl?" Cartman yelled after a few moments. The latter said nothing, only crossed his arms. Stan sighed, patting Cartman and Kenny's back in a gesture to get them off the couch.

"Let's just do it real quick, alright?" The two stood up begrudgingly, and had the room reorganized in a few minutes, so that the TV was now against Kenny's bedroom wall, not that the blond really minded.

"Thanks," Kyle said, grateful. He turned to Stan as the three sat down once again on the couch. "You wanna go with me to get some groceries, dude?"

The noir gave his best friend a pleading look that asked 'Can't we do it tomorrow?'

The redhead sighed. "You're right. We've done enough today." He stretched, pulling out his phone. "I'm gonna get some sleep, I'm fucking beat."

"Night, dude," Stan said absently, already absorbed in watching Cartman play. Kenny turned to smile and nod at Kyle.

"Sweet dreams."

The jew walked the short distance to his room, shutting his door behind him to block out the noise. He hadn't put his bed together yet; the disassembled frame sat against the wall next to his mattress. He'd fix it up tomorrow. For now, he pulled his mattress away from the wall and laid it out on the floor, flopping down onto it. He could hear Stan and Kenny sharing a laugh, followed by an angry rant from Cartman.

He smiled. Living with his best friends (and, hell, even Cartman) had been the best decision of his life. Though he had no blankets, he fell asleep rather quickly, excited for the next day to come so they could figure out how they were going to manage living together for the next four years.


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter's more to kinda set up their situation a bit, so bear with me, it might be kinda boring.**

"Seventy-five dollars each." Kyle scribbles away in his notebook, halting when Cartman makes a noise of protest.

"That's not gonna be enough, you greedy jew!" he practically shrieked.

"With the four of us, it'll come out to three hundred a month, fatass!" Kyle yelled back. "That's more than enough for food, don't you think?"

"Make it one hundred each." Cartman ignored the glare Kyle was sending him. "Three hundred a month isn't going to cut it."

"Not with the way you eat, fatass," Kenny commented, snickering.

"Ey! Shut your mouth, Kenny! You know as well as I do that it's going to take a lot of groceries to keep up with us. I thought you'd be on my side with this, seeing as how you're family's always been so fucking poor. Wouldn't it be nice to open the fridge and see actual food for once?"

"Fuck off, Eric," Kenny growled.

"He has a point, though," Stan suddenly said. All three other occupants in the livingroom turn to look at him in surprise.

"Did you just agree with Cartman?" Kyle asked, astonished. Cartman seemed equally shocked. Stan merely shrugged.

"It's only an extra twenty-five dollars a month. It's not like we're exactly loaded after paying the rent here, but we're not totally broke, either."

"Kyle's just being stingy because he's not working as much as us," Cartman taunts. "He wants to save as much as his jew money as he can."

"Fine! One hundred a month it is," the redhead finally conceded, crossing out his previous entry in the notebook and writing in the new amount. "That seems to be all I can think of, then. Rent's three hundred for each of us, and food's one hundred. Sound fair?" His friends nodded. He turned to Stan. "Did you wanna go shopping with me, then?"

"Why don't we all go?" Stan asked, shrugging. "We're all going to be eating the food, we should all have to do the shopping, too."

"Yeah, that's true. I don't want you guys to come back with all this healthy crap, especially if it's being bought with my money," Cartman said, leaning off the couch to grab his shoes and slipping them on.

Kyle grabbed his keys. "Well, don't just buy fucking junk food, either, Cartman."

"Yeah, yeah."

The four piled into Kyle's Hyundai, Stan sitting shotgun as tradition while the other two took their positions in the backseat. "Should we make a list?" Kyle asked, his only answer being three loud groans. "Note taken."

"We'll just grab whatever the hell we think we'll need," Stan said, pulling his seatbelt on. "We'll save a bit of the money in case we forget something; we can always go back."

"Alright." Kyle pulled halfway out of the driveway before stopping.

"What is it now, Kyle?" Kenny asked from the backseat.

"I don't know where the hell a store's at in this town," he answered, turning to glare back at the blond. "I haven't been to Fort Collins since I was a kid!"

"I'll pull one up on my phone, for god's sake." Kenny went to work, opening up his maps on his phone. "We want like a Walmart, yeah?"

"Yeah, that'll work."

"Cool, here," Kenny said after a few moments, handing his phone to Kyle, who glanced at it for a while to memorize the route. "Got it?"

"Yeah, thanks, dude." Kyle handed the phone back and pulled out the driveway the rest of the way, heading toward the store.

"Pass me the aux cord, Kahl," Cartman said, reaching a hand forward.

"Fuck you, we're not listening to your fucking music in _my_ car."

"Fuck _you_ , hand me the aux cord!" Cartman growled. "Stan, pass me the aux cord!"

"Don't fucking give it to him, Stan."

"Oh my god, you guys, can you not?!" Stan yelled, pulling the cord from its plug and tossing it onto the floorboard. He should have expected this to happen. Just because they were all living together now didn't mean that they were all suddenly going to get along. "Why don't we just listen to the radio?"

"Fucking pussy, why'd you do that?" Cartman complained, sitting back in his seat.

"We're not far from the store anyway, fatass, chill." Kyle sighed, turning on the radio. It was the only sound until they pulled into the Walmart. "Alright, we have four hundred dollars to spend. Let's get two carts."

"Fuck yeah!" Kenny and Cartman yelled, pushing their doors open and bursting out of the vehicle. The two front passengers followed suit. Kyle grabbed a stray cart as they walked across the parking lot toward the store, and Cartman grabbed one that was lined up just outside the large warehouse.

"Let's split up," Cartman said. "Kenny and I will get the good food, Stan and Kahl can go pick out the lettuce and twigs and shit."

Kenny frowned. "Contrary to popular belief, I actually want some decent food, dude. None of that fucking frozen waffles and shit. I'll go with Kyle, and Stan can go with you to make sure you don't go overboard."

"Fair enough," Kyle said, smiling.

"Fine with me," Stan shrugged, and began walking off with Cartman. Kenny smiled, following Kyle to the produce section.

"Dude, I'm fucking hyped," the blond said, grinning as he put some bananas into their cart. Kyle glanced at the price and marked it in the notebook he'd brought along, smiling back at Kenny.

"Hell yeah, dude. We get to cook what we want to eat."

"No more Poptarts for dinner," Kenny said dreamily.

"No more gefilte fish," the jew added, tossing in some strawberries and taking note of their price. "Stan and Cartman better be keeping track, dammit. I should've told them."

"Don't worry about it, dude. If they go over, we'll make them pay out of their own pockets for it." Kenny grabbed some lettuce and tomatoes, throwing them into the cart. "Ah, fuck, we should've made a list, after all."

"Dude, it's fine. Let's just think of what kind of meals we wanna make, and then we'll just grab the ingredients for it."

"Good thinking, Kyle." Kenny hummed, looking toward the vegetables absently. "Spaghetti's a staple."

"Let's just grab like a fuckton of pasta, then. We can make mac n' cheese, too." Kyle began pushing the cart to the pasta aisle, looking back when he realized his friend wasn't following him. "Ken? Kenny! What the hell? Put that back!"

The blond was holding a zucchini at the waistband of his jeans, smirking over at the shorter boy. "Oh, I see you've noticed my _huge_ …cucumber." He winked.

"That's a zucchini, Kenny," Kyle laughed. "If you're not going to get it, put it back."

"Oh, I'm getting it," the taller replied, tossing it into the cart. "I love eating huge zucchinis."

"You didn't even know what it was until I told you!"

"So?" He chuckled. "Maybe I wanna try something new."

"Oh, you've really never had it? I'll make you some fried zucchini when we get back home, then."

"Oh, you will? Thanks, dude, you don't have to, I was just fucking around." Kenny grinned, following his friend into the pasta aisle, a small blush on his face.

"It's fine, dude," Kyle said, bending down to grab some spaghetti noodles. "I kind feel bad for ripping on you for not knowing what it was." He tossed them into the cart and added their price to the list. "Damn, dude, how are we going to spend two hundred dollars? We're barely at twenty dollars."

"Shit, really? That's fucking awesome." Kenny glanced over Kyle's shoulder at the paper. "Well, we still need the sauce for the spaghetti, and hamburger for the meatballs." The redhead nodded, and led them to the sauce and seasoning aisle.

"There's this really good sauce my mom always uses in her spaghetti, but I can't remember what it's called." He scanned the jars, his eyes finally resting on one on the top shelf. "There." He reached up for it, fingertips barely brushing the bottom of it. "God dammit." While he wasn't exactly short, he still wasn't the tallest man in the world. He stretched on his tiptoes, gasping loudly when he felt Kenny's chest brush up against his back.

"It says to seek assistance for items on the top shelf, shorty." Kenny's breath tickled his ear, and then the blond pulled away, holding the jar of sauce in front of his friend's face. Kyle took it from him, feeling his face heat up.

"Thanks." He put the jar into the basket.

"You alright, dude? I didn't mean it about the short comment, you know I-"

Kyle cut him off, waving his hand at him as he felt the heat leave his face. "Nah, you're good, dude. Just surprised me, coming up behind me like that." He grabbed onto the basket and put a few more things into the cart as they headed to the meat section of the store.

"We're doing pretty good," Kenny commented as they put a few pounds of hamburger and other meat into their cart. "I feel like a housewife. Like a rich housewife who uses her husband's credit card, and sometimes goes over the limit but it's okay because she can just use his other credit card to pay the difference."

"Oddly specific but I feel you." Kyle chuckled. "We _are_ doing pretty good, aren't we?"

Meanwhile, Stan and Cartman were doing just the opposite. The thinner of the two was pulling items out of their cart, looking agitated. "How much was this?" he asked, holding up a bag of jerky.

"Hell if I know," the latter muttered. "Who cares? We're obviously not at two hundred yet."

"We'll say five dollars." He threw the bag back into the cart and picked up a bag of candy Cartman had thrown in. "What about this?"

"Stan. Who. Cares." The brunet smacked the candy out of Stan's hand. He was tired, he hadn't slept at all last night and it was catching up to him now. "Stop acting like Kahl. We're fine, alright? I've been averaging it up in my head. We're at about fifty dollars. So chill."

"Are you sure? If we go over our budget-"

"I said chill, you goddam hippie!" Cartman began pushing their cart down the aisle. He knew what he was doing, damnit. He'd gone shopping with his mom and on his own plenty of times before. He knew how to average up the prices, and math was one of his strong suits, so adding it all in his head wasn't a big problem.

Stan followed with a huff.

"If we go over the budget, you're paying for the extra," he said quickly so he wouldn't be interrupted again.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." The taller boy waved him off. "Do you drink coffee?" He remembered Stan going through that goth phase when they were little. And the goth kids drank coffee, hadn't they? Did Stan still like coffee? Had he liked it at all? Why did he even care?

"Sometimes," the raven answered, glancing toward the containers in front of him. "Just grab whatever, I'm not picky."

Cartman grabbed a red container and looked at Stan before throwing it into the cart. The raven didn't seem to object to it. "What else?"

"I don't know, dude. This is harder than I thought it'd be. Let's go look at food that's not gonna send us into cardiac arrest."

"That's no fun," Cartman muttered. Stan gave a small smile, following him down to the end of the aisle. "Let's get some fucking cereal or something. I just want to go home and sleep now." He was exhausted now, and waves of dizziness were flowing through his head as his body tried to put him out.

"You didn't sleep last night?" Stan asked. He thought he'd seen Cartman still on the couch when he got up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, but he'd assumed it was just a dream.

The larger man shook his head. "No, the night shift is getting to me. I can't sleep at night anymore. I tried." He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake.

"Damn, dude, that's gonna suck when you start your classes next week."

"I know, dumbass, you don't have to remind me." Cartman groaned. "I should've made them earlier in the morning. What the fuck was I thinking scheduling them for noon?"

"Well, whatever, you'll figure it out." Stan grabbed some sugary cereal off the shelf, throwing it into the cart. "Get some energy drinks or something to keep you going in class at least."

"Yeah, alright." Cartman tossed two more boxes of cereal into the cart.

They finished their shopping pretty quickly, and the total came out to less than a hundred dollars, which Cartman gloated about the whole walk to the car. Kenny and Kyle were already waiting for them, and got out to help them pack in the groceries.

"Damn, dudes, you didn't get as much as I thought you'd get," Kyle commented.

Cartman shrugged, grumbling a bit. "He's tired," Stan explained. "Otherwise we probably would've gone over budget."

"Fuck you, Stan," Cartman muttered, getting into the back seat. "I told you we'd be fine. Fucking trust me next time, dick."

"Alright, alright." Stan got in beside him, seeing as how Kenny had already claimed shotgun. Cartman closed his eyes to rest them a bit as Kyle started the car. He listened as his three roommates listed off the items they'd bought, their voices growing more and more quiet until the larger man was jolted awake. Kyle and Kenny were laughing from the front, turned in their seat to stare at him. He sat up, realizing he'd been leaning against Stan, his head resting on his shoulder.

"Have a nice nap?" Kenny asked, an amused glint on his freckled face.

"Fuck you."

"You good, dude?" Stan asked, looking at him briefly before turning to get out of the car.

"Yeah." Cartman rubbed his eyes, kicking the back of Kenny's seat before opening the door to get out. "It's not that fucking funny, Kenny."

"But you looked so peaceful," the blond laughed. "Until you started drooling all over Stan."

"Fuck off." He took his copy of the house key from his pocket and headed for the front door.

"Hey, where are you going, fatass?" Kyle yelled after him. "You have to help us bring the shit in!"

"Leave him alone," he heard Stan say. "He didn't get any sleep last night."

"So?"

"Kyle, he-" Cartman didn't hear much else, already inside the house. He left the door open for them and went to his room, flopping down onto his bed with a sigh. He heard the redhead complaining as they came in, bag rustling and dropped onto the counters and floor, but no one came in to wake him up and force him to help, so he made a mental note to do something nice for Stan later or something.

And with that final thought, he was asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Kenny was surprised to see Kyle, fully dressed, sitting against the wall in the kitchen when he got up in the middle of the night to piss. "Dude, what're you doing up?"

The redhead took a sip from his red solo cup, turning to looking at the taller male and then toward his phone. "It's like five in the morning, Ken. I start my job today, I have to be there at six. Just thought I'd have some coffee before I left."

Kenny smiled in amusement, looking down at his friend. "Dude, you work at a Starbucks, just drink the coffee there!"

"I don't like their coffee," the jew mused, taking another sip. "Actually I don't really like coffee in general. I just thought that without my mom to hover over me constantly, I'd finally do something she would nag at me for if she knew."

"Wow, you're such a badass, Kyle." Kenny chuckled, watching the other boy stand up from the floor. "Man, we need a table or something."

"It's on my list of shit we need." Kyle sighed. "My long, long list." He smiled, handing Kenny the warm cup. "I better head out, see ya later, Ken."

"Yeah, see ya, dude." He downed the coffee as Kyle walked out the door, taking a moment to wonder whether he should toss the cup in the trash or keep it. He went with the second choice, deciding that they'd better keep what dishes (or lack thereof) they had. He washed the cup and then used the bathroom, noticing that Cartman had showered earlier, which meant he must be awake.

He pressed his ear against his best friend's door, listening. He could hear rock music playing quietly, and decided that Cartman was probably busy. He was tired, anyway. Coffee really never did anything for him, which was fortunate in this case because his bed looked very inviting from his doorway. He hadn't bothered to get a frame for it, but after his book advance came in (and after buying all his textbooks, of course), he'd splurged on pillows and sheets.

He didn't bother shutting his door, crossing the room and flopping down onto the bed with a happy sigh. What a beautiful, lazy Saturday morning.

Xxx

Kenny woke up around nine-thirty to the smell of something burning. He looked toward his open door and part of the kitchen was just in view. "Stan, don't burn the damn house down."

"Trying not to."

He heard Cartman's door open and saw the man walk past his door a moment later. "Stan, what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm _trying_ to cook eggs!" the other shouted.

"With what, fire and a rock? We have a stove, dumbass."

"I _know_ that, Cartman, I'm-"

"Move over, let me handle this." Kenny heard the sink turn on, and the scraping of metal on metal. He decided that since Cartman was cooking, he might as well ask for some food, too. He pulled on some jeans and a tank top before walking into the kitchen. Stan was sitting on the floor, leaning against the counter with his phone out.

"Morning, Ken," he greeted, before looking up toward Cartman, who was spraying Pam onto the pan. "Here's what I was trying to make." He held up his phone to the larger man, who glanced at it with an uncertain face.

"What the hell kind of omelet is that?"

"Can you make it or not?" Stan retorted. Cartman grabbed the phone and studied it.

"Yeah, I can make it. I'm gonna judge you hardcore for wanting something so lame, though."

"It's not lame, it looks good."

"Hey, Eric, mind making me some eggs, too?" Kenny asked, sitting down next to Stan.

"Do I look like your guys' personal chef?!" the brunet yelled, pointing his spatula toward the two. "Make your own damn eggs, Kenny!"

"I'll suck your dick if you make me some eggs," Kenny joked. Cartman smacked the top of his head with the spatula.

"I'll make your fucking eggs if you stop making jokes like that," he mumbled.

Kenny turned to smirk at Stan. "Works every time." The raven rolled his eyes, giving Kenny a light punch to the shoulder before standing up to pour himself some coffee. "It's probably cold by now."

"That's why they invented the microwave," Stan told the blond, putting the red plastic cup into said object, careful to stay out of Cartman's way.

A few minutes later, Cartman finished cooking Stan's omelet, and picked the pan off the stove. "Plate. I need a plate, Stan."

"Uh, oh shit," the other responded, looking through the cupboards. "Do we have any?"

"Probably not," Kenny piped in, standing up to aid in the search. "We didn't bring any, and we sure as hell didn't buy any at the store." He looked at the trash can. "I'm gonna teach you guys a little secret that I learned from all my years being poor as shit."

He grabbed the pizza box that had been laid against the wall near the trash can, seeing as how everyone had been too lazy to actually take it out to the bin. He tore the cardboard lid off the box, tearing that into four pizzas and extending one of the pieces toward Cartman.

"Here's the plate."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Cartman deadpanned, but dropped the omelet onto the offered cardboard. "Welp, here you go, Stan."

"Thanks." The noir took the food and located a plastic fork before digging in. He made a loud moaning sound that startled both of the other men in the room. "Dude, this is fucking delicious."

"Jesus, Stan, don't have an orgasm," Kenny snickered. Cartman looked weirded out but smug.

"Told you I could cook." He turned back to the stove to start on Kenny's eggs.

"You know how I like them?" the blond asked. Cartman waved him away.

"Yeah, yeah, milk and cheese, I know."

" _Thank you_."

Stan walked to the couch to sit down and eat, turning on the TV. Fuzzy static greeted him. "You guys think we should get cable?"

Cartman scoffed. "No. That's what we have computers for, Stan. We should get internet, though. I don't want to keep using my hotspot."

"Alright, let's talk to Kyle about it when he gets off work."

"Why do we have to talk to him first?" Cartman asked, cracking eggs into a bowl.

"Because he's probably going to want to know how much he'll be paying for his share of the bill?" Stan answered.

"For fuck's sake, it's not like it's going to be more than, what, ten dollars?"

"He's not working as much as we are, dude. I think he said after the rent and bills and stuff, he's only gonna have like two hundred dollars or something." Stan shrugged. "He probably wants to save it, you know?"

"It's ten dollars, Stan."

"If it's only ten dollars then why don't you pay his share?"

"I'm not paying his fucking share, why don't you-"

"Why don't we wait until Kyle gets home?" Kenny asked, trying to play mediator. "He gets off at three, it's not that long to wait. Fuck."

"Whatever, fine." Cartman sighed in irritation, stirring milk into the bowl of eggs and mixing it. "You want the cheese in now or later?"

"Later."

Stan finished his omelet and washed his fork, glancing down hesitantly at the piece of cardboard he'd been using.

"Just throw it away, Stan, there's no saving it." Kenny laughed, opening the trash can for him. "We can order more pizza when we run out of cardboard."

"Or, and just hear me out on this, we can go buy actual plates," Stan said, lifting his palms up and shrugging.

"Damn, that's not a bad idea."

"Yeah, I know." Stan smiled. "Cartman and I didn't use the whole two hundred yesterday, maybe we can go sometime before Kyle gets off and grab some other shit, too." He looked at Cartman. The brunet and Kyle were the only two who had vehicles, and seeing as how Kyle was gone, it'd be up to Cartman to take them to the store.

"Yeah, we can go," Cartman answered when he finally realized that Stan was asking his permission. "We should probably get a drying rack and some kitchen towels, too."

"Kitchen towels?" Kenny asked.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot you grew up poor. Kitchen towels are these towels that are meant for the-"

"I _know_ what they are, fatass," the blond growled. "But why do we need them?"

"To dry. The dishes," Cartman explained slowly. He shook his head before turning to look at Stan. "Can you believe this guy?"

"What the hell do we need a drying rack for then?!" Kenny asked, raising his hands.

"Guys, we'll figure all this shit out at the store, alright?" Stan intervened. Cartman finished cooking Kenny's eggs and put them onto one of the pieces of cardboard.

"Fine by me." He handed the eggs to Kenny. "Here, peasant."

"Shut up. And thank you." Kenny took the food and used Stan's fork to eat it.

"Might as well go after Kenny's done eating," Cartman said, heading into his room to grab his keys.

"Dude, let me get dressed first," Stan said, walking into his own room.

"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" Kenny asked, smiling. "I like the way your boxers look. They give you that 'I just got out of bed' vibe. It's a nice look."

"Shut the fuck up, Kenny," Stan yelled from his room, the sound of boxes opening doing nothing to muffle the shout. "Damn, I still haven't unpacked anything." Kenny walked to the noir's room, cardboard plate in hand as he leaned against the doorway.

"Why not?" he asked after swallowing a bite.

"I can't seem to find the motivation for it." Stan pulled out some jeans from a box, sniffing them and seeming pleased with the scent. He raised an eyebrow at Kenny as he pulled them on, jumping a bit to fit into them. "I think I'm gaining weight."

"Nah, your pants have always been that tight." Kenny took another bite of his eggs. "Didn't you learn in sex ed that all that compression on your balls is going to make you infertile?"

"Kenny, what the fuck." Stan dug through another box for a shirt, pulling out an old Terrance and Phillip tee and putting it on.

"Are you fags ready yet or not?" Cartman yelled from the kitchen, jingling his keys.

Kenny turned away from Stan's door as the noir grabbed his jacket. "Can I finish my eggs at least? God, give me a second. And Stan's not even dressed yet!"

Cartman was coming down the hallway a moment later, poised to begin yelling. He stopped when he saw that Kenny's "plate" was empty and that Stan was, indeed, fully clothed. "Hurry up already."

"Alright, Mom, we're coming," Kenny sing-songed, avoiding the punch thrown his way. "Let me grab my jacket real fast."

"I will leave without you, asshole."

Xxx

Kyle's first day was busy, but not too bad. He'd been taught how to make all the drinks, the store's policies, and had been given an apron. He was still tired, however, and his feet ached. The only job he'd ever worked in high school was as a tutor, so he wasn't used to standing up for such long periods of times. He figured he'd get used to it, but as he drove home his feet were killing him and it felt only slightly better to be off of them.

He parked next to Cartman's car in the driveway, noticing it had moved. He walked up the sidewalk to their home, opening the front door and being greeted by a pleasant, flowery scent. "Uh, guys?"

"Kyle's home!" Kenny shouted from the livingroom, jumping off the couch and greeting the redhead in the front hallway. "Look at the kitchen. We got a ton of stuff for it. It actually looks like a kitchen now."

Kyle gave a small smile, walking forward into room and raising his eyebrows in surprise. Thanks to the open cupboards, he could see all the plates, bowls, and cups they'd bought. He opened a drawer curiously, finding silverware inside. There were also a few various-colored washcloths and hand towels scattered throughout the room, as well as a red drying rack. Stan and Cartman watched him from the couch, the latter not appearing too interested in the redhead's reaction.

"Damn, dudes, this looks nice."

"Yeah, yeah, now onto more important matters." Cartman held up a sheet of lined paper. "We're getting internet and Mr. Prissypants over here wanted to get your blessing before we committed to such an expensive luxury."

"Yeah, sure, I was going to suggest it anyway. What's an extra fifteen dollars a month?"

" _See_! See, Stan! I told you!" Cartman cried out, thrusting the paper into Stan's face.

"Okay!" Stan backed away from the offending paper, swatting at Cartman's hands.

"I'm calling them now," the brunet said, standing up from the couch and digging his phone out of his pocket before heading into his room for quiet.

Kyle sat down in his place next to Stan, sighing tiredly as he leaned back against the couch.

"How was work?" his best friend asked, settling in next to him. Kenny took a seat on the arm of the couch as Kyle kicked his shoes off.

"It was alright. Just trained me how to do everything. My feet are killing me."

"You'll get used to standing all day," Kenny assured him. "It's just gonna be tough the first week or so."

"Yeah, I know." Kyle pouted. "I think I'm gonna go soak in the tub."

"Dude, use some of that Epsom Salt I have in there. It's under the sink," Stan said. "It's supposed to help with pain and stuff."

"Thanks, dude, I'll try it out." Kyle pushed himself off the couch, deciding to leave his shoes.

"I find that full body massages help, too," Kenny said, smirking. "I gladly offer my services to you."

"Uh, no thanks," Kyle said, waving the blond off with a laugh. "I'd rather not be molested after my _first_ day of work."

"What about your second?"

"I'll have to decline that offer as well."


End file.
